Every Day You Leave Behind
by bminor
Summary: Peyton has finally let Lucas go. He's free to be happy with Lindsey. So why does he find himself at the river court that night with Peyton's voice filling his head? Set right after ep 508. Lucas POV.


**A/N:** When I wrote this I just really needed to understand Lucas better because his denial was frustrating me so much I was finding it hard to keep shipping LP. It was written a long time ago, but I'm now publishing a lot of my old stuff here so it's in one place.  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, I make no money out of this, etc etc.

...

" _You think Whitey will let you out of practice early so we can catch a movie?"_

The sound of her voice was on constant playback in his head. That one sentence. That one playful, sad, bittersweet sentence, the focus of all his concentration yet just the beginning to an entire conversation which he was unable to put out of his mind.

She had let him go. At least she had made the decision to let him go. He had stood there in her office a few days earlier, yelling at her, asking her why she wouldn't, why she couldn't. And now she had. This is what he wanted - to be with Lindsey, to move on with his life. To close the chapter of his life in which he was able to make better sense of Peyton than he was of himself.

He sat on the rickety old bench down by the river court, looking out over the lights shimmering in the water. He breathed in the night air, inhaling deeply to try and ease the tightness he felt in his chest. Whitey may have given Lucas his fair share of laps to run in the past, but no workout had ever made his lungs feel this constricted. No-one had ever made him feel this unable to breathe.

Behind him on the asphalt lay a constant reminder of everything they used to have. Each of their friends' names laid down in paint, once bright and new now worn and faded, as forgotten as the people they used to be and the promises they had made. What was intended to be a promise between them all, a gesture of friendship and solidarity, was now just a painful reminder of every day he'd left behind. A painful reminder of the life he used to have - the life he used to have with her. He sat with his back to the court but the image of the mural lingered in his mind. He could still feel it there behind him, the devil on his shoulder, the voice inside his head telling him that something was wrong.

Once again he was forced to relive the moment. She stood in front of him in the gym that had been witness to some of their most important moments, and looked him directly in the eye, tears resting in hers. He had seen her cry a lot over the past few months, and he knew that he was usually the cause. He hated himself for it.

She took his hand, clenched it tightly between both of hers and told him that she would let him be happy, even if it was without her. She kissed his fingers then walked away, letting go of the grasp she had on his hand. Letting go of him. He could still hear the sound of her boots echoing throughout the gym, getting fainter and fainter with each step until the only thing left of her was the tingling of his hand where hers had been moments before.

It never really left him, the feeling of her skin on his. Over the past 3 years he had learned to put it out of his mind but it had always been there, as if she'd only just removed her touch from his seconds before… as if she should still be there and was missing.

When Peyton had returned to Tree Hill she had tried to hug him just metres away from where he was now, but before he knew what he was doing he took a few steps back, refusing. If he felt her touch on him again so soon, he knew he'd never again be able to forget what that was like. God knows it was bad enough catching the scent of her skin on the breeze as she cautiously approached him, flooding his mind with a thousand intimate memories - all of which he'd tried to suppress, all of which screamed at him that he never should have walked away.

He lay back on the bench, frustrated, and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted from the sheer energy of trying to convince everyone he wasn't lying to himself and them. He knew he didn't have it in him to convince Peyton one more time that he wasn't aching for her the way she ached for him, and that soon he would have lost all resolve and done exactly what it was he wanted to do. What he had wanted to do for 3 years.

But now she had let him go. He figured that made him lucky. Now he would no longer need to try and convince people that he wasn't in love with her. He could forget her the same way she was going to forget him, and he'd be happy with Lindsey. It was fine, everything would be fine. This was the way it should be.

The hourly alarm on his watch sounded to indicate that it was 11pm, suddenly pulling him out of the noise inside his own head and back into the silence of the night. Knowing he should get home to Lindsey, he stood up and made his way to the car, trying to ignore all of the memories that had been made on this court as he walked past the places they had been made. He almost succeeded.

When he arrived home the house was quiet, Lindsey already asleep in bed. He quietly made his way over to the bed and lay down beside her, still clothed and smelling of the night air. He leaned over, kissing her shoulder and rousing her from a light sleep.

"Let's get married right away."

She smiled, and turned to kiss him, surprised by his spontaneous display of enthusiasm. He kissed her gently, making his way down her neck and over her shoulder. As he held her tightly, this time it was his own voice that he wished he wasn't hearing on playback in his mind. _  
_  
 _"I'll be seeing you."_


End file.
